


In Want of a Spoonful of Sugar

by fayedartmouth



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-05
Updated: 2013-07-05
Packaged: 2017-12-17 18:43:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fayedartmouth/pseuds/fayedartmouth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And that’s why you never accept medication you can’t identify.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Want of a Spoonful of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.
> 
> A/N: New fandoms, yay! Takes place during Amy and Rory’s stint with the Doctor. Also a fill for my h/c bingo card on LJ. Prompt was medication. Apologies for any Americanisms. Thanks to lena7142 for her beta.

“Please wait for processing.”

Amy moved forward, almost indifferent as one of the larger and friendly-looking robots approached her with a scanner. It was strange and busy and a little overwhelming, which was to say it was all to be expected. The Doctor had dropped them off in one of the Space Hubs of the Cerulian System while he tried to locate a distress beacon he’d picked up from an old friend. He’d promised to meet up with them in no time.

Behind her, Rory pressed close. “Are you sure this is where the Doctor wanted us to meet him?”

Amy looked around, shrugging. “Gate 2335, right?” She cocked her head. “Or was that 2332?”

Rory groaned. “You’re becoming just like him,” he said.

“You mean fun and interesting?”

“Impossible and difficult,” Rory said petulantly.

She turned, grinning up at him. “You love me.”

“Yeah, and you’re lucky I do,” he said.

The robot paused, the scanner beeping. “Visitors 15,778 and 15,779, please stop.”

Amy stopped neutrally, while Rory almost crashed into her. 

“Wait, us?” Rory asked. “We’re Visitors 15,778 and 15,779?”

Amy gave him a look. “Apparently. Maybe we won!”

Rory looked around fretfully. “Why isn’t the Doctor here?”

Amy groaned. “If you don’t stop, _I’m_ going to be the one getting jealous.”

“Ha ha,” Rory said.

The robot’s monitor beeped again. “Visitors 15,778 and 15,779, you have not be protected against local virus 678.”

“Yeah, we’re not from around here,” Amy said, apologetically. She gestured back. “Actually, we’re waiting for a friend of ours--”

The robot didn’t appear to care. “Please prepare for inoculation,” it said, producing a syringe from one of its fingers.

Amy flinched, surprised.

“Hey!” Rory objected, putting himself in front of Amy. “Inoculation?”

“It is entirely safe,” the robot said, even as the swarms of people on the space hub continued to spread around them. “It has been tested and approved. All visitors are required to have proper inoculations before entering the hub.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Amy said.

“Except we don’t know what’s in it,” Rory objected.

“They said it’s safe!”

“And it’s an alien robot! In some solar system I can’t pronounce in a future I know nothing about!” Rory said. “I mean, it’s medication, Amy. You can’t just take medication without knowing what it is.”

“Visitors 15,778 and 15,779, please prepare for inoculation,” the robot said again.

Rory pushed further back, taking Amy with him.

“Rory,” Amy said, her cheeks flushing as she looked around. They were getting weird looks in earnest now, and considering the way some of the creatures looked, that was certainly saying something. “You’re making a scene.”

“We don’t even know if they’ve seen human physiology,” Rory explained tediously. “There could be unintended consequences--”

“It has been tested and approved,” the robot repeated. “All visitors are required to have proper inoculations before entering the hub.”

“And who’s to say that we’re not at _more_ risk from whatever disease they’re trying to inoculate us against?” Amy asked. “Come on, you’re a nurse. Vaccines are safe.”

“Sure, when they’ve been created for a specific population and a specific disease, with test results fully documented and _ow--_ ” 

Rory cut off, reaching up and grabbing his neck. The robot pulled away, the needle from its finger disintegrating. “Thank you, Visitor 15,778,” it said. “You may proceed.”

“See,” Amy said, feeling just a little smug. “Just a prick.”

She sidestepped him, even as he was still feeling the spot on his neck before smiling at the robot. “My turn, then.”

“Amy,” Rory said, his hand reaching out and grasping her arm.

“Rory, come _on,_ ” she said with exasperation. “If we’re going to be traveling among other cultures, we have to be willing to accept their way of life--”

She cut short, tilting her head. 

“Rory?”

Rory couldn’t reply, though. His eyes were wide and his mouth was open. His chest heaved, but the gasping, choking noises hardly sounded promising. His grip tightened, almost crushing her arm, before loosening suddenly as his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed to the ground.

“Rory!”

Her _I told you so_ speech was forgotten -- _everything_ was forgotten -- as she hit her knees next to him, trying desperately to see what was wrong.

“Rory, talk to me,” she said, almost begging.

Rory’s body convulsed, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead as he gaped in futility. He writhed under her touch, and she could feel the hammering of his heart before fine tremors shook him and enveloped him until he was shaking in earnest.

Amy’s heart nearly stopped, dropping into her stomach as she sat there, stupid and idle. “Rory,” she said. She turned her head back to the robot, realizing her eyes were wet. “Help him!”

The robot had the scanner up again, and the crowds were parting further. She looked back to Rory, who was still seizing, his lips going blue.

“Please,” Amy yelled, looking back at the robot -- looking beyond for any sign of help. “Please, _help him!_ ”

Her mind spun, and panic set in along with denial. This couldn’t be happening. This _couldn’t be happening._ She and Rory were together now. After everything that had happened, after everything they’d been through, they were together. They were going to be okay; they were going to make it. They were damn near invincible with the Doctor.

The Doctor--

Her heart faltered, and she looked up, scanning the crowd desperately. He had to be there. He _had_ to be there.

On the ground, Rory went still, and Amy could hear the robot’s monitor bleating plaintively.

The Doctor would come. Rory would be okay. The universe was in flux; time was fluid; but those two things were constant.

Those two things _always_ had to be constant.

Her gaze settled on Rory again, but his face was pale, his body lifeless. Like he was dead.

She choked on a sob, and found herself shaking. Numbly, she reached down, caressing his face before another sob was wrenched free. 

Not Rory. Not her Rory. Not like this.

She closed her eyes.  
 _  
Not like this.  
_  
Inhaling, she couldn’t stop the tears, and she dropped her head down on Rory’s too still chest, aware of the telling absence of his heartbeat.  
 _  
Not like this.  
_  
There was no time for this. There was no space for this. The whole of the universe, the whole of existence didn’t matter without Rory.

“Amy? What--”

The question died, and Amy looked up into the Doctor’s face. He swallowed, glancing to the robot. “What inoculation did you give him?”

The robot was impassive. “Standard inoculation was provided for local virus 678.”

The Doctor’s frown deepened. 

“What is it?” Amy asked. “Is it bad?”

“No,” the Doctor said thoughtfully. “Local virus 678 is a common flu bug. Annoying but not deadly.”

Amy swallowed a sob. “Then why is he _dead_?” Her voice cracked painfully on the word.

The Doctor frowned anew. “Because he doesn’t have the virus,” he said, getting to his feet. He approached the robot who beeped in protest. The Doctor merely lifted his sonic screwdriver and flashed it at the robot, once in the eyes, then twice more at a circuit board exposed on its chest.

With a series of beeps, the robot moved toward Amy again, lowering itself down closer to Rory.

Amy scooped him up, pulling him back protectively.

“Please provide access to the patient,” the robot said.

“Like hell!” Amy said. “You killed him!”

“Please provide access to the patient,” the robot said once more, a fresh syringe appearing.

“Amy, let it help,” the Doctor advised.

“ _It_ did this to him,” Amy insisted, trying not to notice how cool Rory’s face was pressed against her chest.

“Yes, which is why it is the only one that can save him,” the Doctor said.

Amy looked up at him warily.

“I reprogrammed its objectives,” the Doctor said. “Before it was acting out of pure protocol, but it is a fully equipped medical bot. The best in the galaxy. If anyone can save Rory...”

Hesitant, Amy looked at the robot before turning her gaze to Rory again. His face was gray now, his lips parted and slack. There was no spark of life left.

“Amy, if you wait, it’ll be too late,” the Doctor said softly.

Amy squeezed her eyes shut, holding Rory close. She was scared. She was terrified. But if she’d learned anything about traveling through time, it was that there were some things she couldn’t control. Some problems she couldn’t fix.

Some times when she needed to let go.

She swallowed, lowering Rory back to the floor. He lay limply as the robot approached, injecting another needle into his neck. It pulled back, its monitor beeping.

Amy held her breath.

When nothing happened, she looked up at the Doctor. “Well?”

“Just give it a minute,” he said, but he was chewing his lip, eyes still on Rory. “Just give it a _minute._ ”

But Rory might not have a minute to give, and Amy had spent so much of her life waiting on promises from the Doctor. This one had to pan out. This one couldn’t fail her.

Not for Rory.

Without him, there was nothing.

There was _nothing._

And then, Rory arched off the floor, sucking in a gasping breath. He collapsed back, breathing in noisily again, and Amy started crying again.

“Rory,” she cried, launching herself forward and burying herself into him. “Oh, thank God.”

Rory’s breaths were heavy and railing, but as she scooped him out, wrapping him in a hug, she could feel his heart beating.

He was alive.

The relief was nothing short of exhilaration, and she held him tight until she finally felt him holding her back.

Pulling away, she sniffled. He was looking at her. His face was still pale, but his lips weren’t blue anymore. He looked terrible, but he was alive.

He smiled wearily. “See,” he said, gulping for another breath. “And that’s -- why you _never_ accept medication you can’t identify.”

She laughing, tears still falling. “Shut up, you idiot,” she said, pulling him forward again and kissing him. 

He kissed her back, and Amy felt the Doctor fall back toward the crowd. There was probably still something to do here -- maybe they had to save the universe again -- but for now, it was her and Rory. Just the two of them.

“Shut up,” she said again, as his lips crushed hers. “ _Shut up,_ ” she ordered, until for once, the entire universe obeyed.


End file.
